


in the stars

by ZombieBabs



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Pre-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieBabs/pseuds/ZombieBabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe dreams of the GIANT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Written a long time ago, after I had first watched season one. Does not take into account anything that happens after the season one finale.

He dreams of the GIANT. He sits before it, his fingers resting on the keyboard. It seems bigger than he remembers. Or perhaps he is just smaller. 

This is not the mass-produced, soulless machine currently sitting on shelves, the one that can only claim to be half the cost and twice the speed of anything on the market. This is the work of art put together by everyone he has come to feel close to, closer than he has ever been to anyone but his mother, and even his father before the accident. When he looks at it, he can’t see anything of himself in the computer. He sees the engineering of the man with which he has come to have a fragile friendship, the case of the man he had almost been able to love, the code of the woman he deeply cares for, but nothing that can call his own.

‘Who are you?’ Cameron’s operating system asks. The cursor blinks.

‘Joe MacMillan,’ he types.

‘Joe MacMillan is your father. Who are you?’

It is difficult to type the response, as if his fingers are not strong enough to press down the keys. ‘Joe MacMillan, Jr. I am my father’s son.’

‘Are you not your mother’s son?’ asks the computer.

The question is almost a physical blow. Joe sits back and thinks about the answer.

Is he at all like his mother? He can’t remember much of her anymore. All he remembers are stars.

‘I don’t know,’ he types. It feels strange to be so truthful, especially about himself, even if the answer is not much of one.

‘What would you like to do?’ the GIANT asks.

This question is easier. ‘I want to create something that will change the world.’

‘I’m sorry,’ the computer replies, ‘That is not within your parameters. You cannot create. You can only destroy.’

“No!” He tries to dash the machine to the floor, but the computer is much bigger now, towering over him. He ends up pushing himself back instead, falling onto his ass.

His hands are so small. He turns them over to look more closely. They are thin and fragile from disuse. Joe looks at the rest of himself and sees small feet and thin legs sticking out from underneath a hospital gown.

He looks back up at the machine to see a new line of text. ‘Cameron was right. You are just a sad little boy.’

“No!” he says again, but his voice is just as small as he is.

“Your mother was right to throw you of the roof,” the GIANT says, and he can feel its electronic voice deep beneath the bandages wrapped around his middle.

“She didn’t throw me! She let go. I fell. I fell!” Joe tries to back away from the computer, but it is growing too fast. It becomes impossibly larger until it fills his vision. There is nothing but himself and the GIANT and its black screen feels like infinity. He doesn’t feel it until it is too late, until he is falling and falling into that blackness without even stars to light the way.

He wakes up to the dim light of predawn. He scrubs any trace of wetness from his face even though there is no one around to see.

His chest hurts underneath his scars. It’s an old, deep ache that tells him it will probably rain soon. He gets up and begins to put away his sleeping bag, doing his best to forget the sensation of falling. He should be at the observatory soon. He doesn’t know what he will find there—pieces of himself, pieces of his mother, his next big idea—but he thinks he may find something in the stars.


End file.
